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Zi)t ^Temple of tfie g>oul 





Carl Prongon 



®te temple of tfje #cul 



2i:i)e Zmplt of t\}t ^oul 




QIarl SrnuBnn 



1312 

205 «knrl|ar& iguilbtng 
Cob AngrUB, (Hal. 






Copyright 1912, by G. C. Bronson 



"Honb'a," dint. 
^OB Attg^Ua 

f^ t. 6 T3 

(gC!.A3321.i6 



Cfje tlTemple of tlje ^oul 



For ages the poet hath treasured his dreams, 

And every phase hath been written, it seems; 

E'en I have had visions of beauty and grace. 

And I'm writing of one time cannot efface. 

'Twas once when depressed with the inane of Hfe, 

Forsensing how futile material strife. 

In a sphere that seem'd artless, selfish and vain; 

V\/here the trend of all thought v/as temporal gain. 

Where friends were embittered with venomous spite, 

'Till rebellion within me was tempted to smiite. 

The seeming success, the contempt of the wise. 
The crafty whose artifice flourished in lies: 
Where genius was stifled and talent suppressed, 
And beauty and love, but a fanciful jest. 

I had striven and failed, life's battle seem'd lost; 
In defeat I had paused to reckon the cost: 
There was something within me still unexpressed, 
I was not attuned to the highest and best ; 

5 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And I fervently prayed that some pow'r might endue 
My zeal with an aim that was worthy and true ; 
And I cried in despair: "There's a lack, a need; 
There's a force within me has never been freed." 

While thus meditating, there rose on my sight 

A radiant being, — an angel of light. 

She seem'd to embody my being's desire. 

For she struck into flame life's smouldering fire. 

Her eyes were as blue as the heavens, and deep : 

Her hair glinted gold in its shimmering sweep. 

Her red lips were arched as the bend of a bow, 

And poised for a voice of sweet, musical flow. 

Round her beautiful throat a rosary hung. 

And a crucifix o'er her fair bosom swung. 

The mists 'round her waist were enclasped by a gem, 

And over her feet swept a bright, starry hem. 

Her figure was willowy, supple and tall; 

Her bearing was regal and queenly withal. 

The spirit that shone from the flash of her glance 

Show'd a masterful poise ; the pow'r to entrance. 

This beautiful being, so real in my dream. 
Stood forth from the shadows a radiant beam. 
A violet aura encircled her 'round, 
A vaporous garment her whole figure wound ; 
Showing each graceful curve in contour and line, 
Completing in beauty a person divine. 

6 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Round her sensitive hands wove a mystic spell, 

As from her deft fingers true harmonies fell ; 

The throb of her pulse marked the rythmical chime 

That threaded the metre of metrical rhyme. 

Her heart lent compassion to all that she wrought; 

Her tongue was attuned to a bountiful thought. 

Her mind was at one with the all-knowing sphere, 

And skilled in the knowledge and view of the seer. 

This beautiful being so ravished my sight, 

I flew like a moth round her transcendent light; 

Tho my pinions were burned, my eyes passion blind, 

I sought her flame still, leaving all else behind — 

I wooed, I caressed her, I plead at her feet — 

I adored and I worshipped with ardor complete. 

At last when I pray'd the mere touch of her hand, — 

She turned and she asked: "Dost desire understand?" 

"Go ponder my question in silence and thought, 

And come not to me till your answer you've wrought." 

Then I pondered her question as she required, 

And returned with the answer my zeal inspired. 

I said: "'Tis ambition enkindles desire, 

The thirst for true wisdom my being doth fire. 

And I'm willing to suffer to have what I crave, 

Understanding alone, my spirit can save." 

Then she graciously said : "Entreat me no more, 
I will open for thee Life's mystical door." 
"But ere you begin your pilgrimage there, 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

You must enter probation, — your mind prepare ; 
You must cast from your being all needless dross. 
And prepare to ascend the way of the cross ; 
When you've entered that portal, Life's gate passed 

thru, 
You surrender your being to grace or rue." 

Then she raised her fair hand and a cleft appeared 
In the wall of the world, whence a stair upreared; 
A stairway so steep and marvelous high, 
That its uttermost step seem'd lost in the sky. 

O'er the cleft not a beam, not a star gave light. 
Like a viewless pall hung the curtain of night; 
But I felt a new pow'r as I onward passed, 
And sped up the stairway impatiently fast. 

I had gained a great height, when stumbling I fell. 

As it seem'd thru the palpable dusk of hell. 

Like a meteor hurled from luminous flight. 

Head downward I plunged to oblivion's night. 

Where I struck at last in obscurity's dell. 

And bleeding and bruised I b^egan to rebel. 

With faith and trust shattered and ev'ry fond hope, 

I seem'd in innocuous chaos to grope. 

My ardent desire and the soul-waking stair, 

Seem'd but the vain urge of the mind's cunning snare. 

I struggled to rise, but as heavy as lead. 

My body lay pulseless as if it were dead. 

8 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

How long I lay suffering I do not know; 
But my guide raised me up and said : "We must go" — 
"Vv eVe no time for rebellion — The way is wild ; 
And caution must flavor the faith of the child." 
"For," said she, "'twas o'er-confidence cast thee down, 
'Tis patient endeavor alone wins the crown. 

Humility's lesson is hardest to learn, 
You cannot progress till advancement you earn. 
You must thoughtfully delve, nor cast one aside ; 
You must learn as you go ; must m.ove with your tide ; 
Leaving nothing undone, doing all tasks well; 
Let the essence within your progress impell. 
For ev'ry mistake you must do the sum o'er, 
You muEt fledge in the nest before you can soar. 
There is nothing counts here but personal store. 
The actual knocks, not hardships smoothed o'er: 
Not v/hat people tell you, nor what you have read; 
'Tis contacting, feeling and being instead. 

There is no path so rough but we can brave its thorns ; 
No sacrifice but yields a richer gain. 
There is no life so drear but that some grace adorns; 
No heart so reft that hope may not remain. 

We only need the trust that faileth not — 
We only need to sense Eternal things: 
We only need persist, whnte'er our lot. 
To scale the heights upon Immortal wings. 

9 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

For He who bids us trace the stars, 
Doth understand the soul; 

He placed their steadfast beams above 
To guide us to the goal. 

The God that plan'd expanse and space, 
Foreknew the pow'r of mind; 

That when the slumb'ring dreamer woke, 
Thought could not be confined. 

Whose wisdom spun the web of time, 

Knew man's inconstancy; 
And that he might be taught and learn, 

Gave him eternity." 



11. 



By the glimmering point of a glow-worm's spark, 
I trembling^ly ventured a step in the dark ; 
And seeing the shadow beginning to clear, 
My senses were freed from the thraldom of fear. 
And on thru the blackness a faint ray of hope 
Began to unravel a path up the slope. 
Then a voice disembodied, sang in my ear. 
And it thrilled to my innermost depths, sincere; 
As my conscience aroused, began to know wrong. 
And this was the theme of the penitent's song : 

10 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

"Have you who pray so loudly for your slumb'ring soul 

to grow, 
Without credit, praise or fear, helped another who 

was low? 
Have you searched the dismal swamps for the sheep 

that went astray, 
Have you helped it frotm the mire, have you led it on 

the way? 
Have you helped the helping one with a sympathetic 

word; 
Have you freed him from the mote of a prejudice 

absurd? 
Have you learned the price of joy? Can you bid com- 
plaint be still? 
Can you tolerate another who is trying to fulfill 
All the tenets of his learning in the only way he can? 
(None are perfect, all are learning how to bridge the 

spirit's span.) 
Do you know the cost of freedom from the vices that 

assail, — 
What it is to try forever and forever seem to fail? 
Can you look upon your fellows all as children of one 

God,~ 
Can you feel His mystic presence, can you sense Him 

in the clod? 
Can you bid your tongue be silent from the scolding 

and the hate, 

11 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And forget the stinging words? Can you meekly tol- 
erate? 

Can you bid your hands be quiet when they tense with 
hurt and harm? 

Can you turn another's anger with your gentleness and 
charm? 

Can you sense another's sorrow? Do you know a 
contrite heart? 

Can you speak the word of healing? Can you some 
rare thought impart? 

Can you see life's work go forward and not strive to 
hold it back? 

Can you see the good in others that, perchance, you 
seem to lack? 

Do you love with selfless passion? Do you love the 
great and free? 

Does your heart leap with emotion at the thought of 
liberty? 

Would you give another freedom if it cost your feel- 
ings much? 

Could you give a soul to action and be grateful for a 
touch? 

If all these you can, you're learning, and you'll soon 
begin to see 

Past this little vale of sorrow to the broad Eternity. 

In humble abasem^ent, remorseful I cried: 
"I've very few virtues, yet, ever I've tried 

12 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

To temper my attitude so to all men, 
That all might be helped to the best of my ken." 
"Pass on, then, and learn," the echo replied; 
"And be not dismayed tho bitterly tried." 

As I stumbled along the deep shadow'd trail, 
There came a faint murmur from over the shale. 
Like gentle rain dripping, or wind scattered dew, 
As a fountain or rill its waters might strew; 
And seeking the cause, I found that a tide 
Of glittering gold from the steep mountain's side. 
Was threading its way thru the dusk of the night, 
Like a ribbon of fire with phosphorent light. 

With wonder I gazed on the beautiful stream. 
That dazzled my eyes with the glare of its gleam. 
And our way we traced o'er the brink of the height, 
By its tortuous wend, by the flare of its light. 

I marveled that beings stood sentinel like. 
With fierce flashing swords drawn ready to strike 
Whenever the trail edged close to the stream. 
Whenever our zeal lead us too near its gleam. 
Nor willow, nor berry, nor creeper grew there, 
For the wash of the stream left the shoreline bare. 
But away from the stream and its tainted tide. 
Were deep, leafy jungles and blossoms beside. 
Once the path led aways thru a beauty spot. 
Where a cool highland rillet flow'd from its grot; 

13 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And there in the silence I knelt at its shrine, 
And the soul of the stream whispered thus to mine 

"I once was a tear," 

Said the ripp'ling brook, 
As it danced upon its way; 
"I sprang at first 
From a suffering heart. 
That overflowed one day. 

I dropt on the bloom 

Of a sweet wildrose. 
That was woven in a wreath; 

That was laid on the grave 

Of a hope unattained, 
Too deep for the voice to breathe. 

I was swept away 

In a bright flood of dew; 
And I grew, and grew, and grew ; 

Till now I'm a brook, 

With a silvery voice, 
That sings the valley thru. 

But that sweet wild rose 

I will never forget; 
Nor the heart from whence I've sprung, 

So I*m voicing to-day 

In my simple way, 
The song that was left unsung. 

14 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 



And, some day I know, 

As a masterful wave, 
I shall leap o'er a distant height ; 

And the bountiful earth 

That cradles me now, 
Will tremble beneath my might. 

But still, that deep note 

Of the heart's monotone, 

Will swell with the theme of yore; 

And the salt of the tear 

My soul shall be 
That singeth f orevermore !'* 



As the flame on the hearth deepens shadows aback 
So the glow of the stream made the heav'ns seem black. 
And the cliffs and the doughs that varied the rim, 
Reflected vermilion from brilliant to dim, 
Like that soft after glance at the close of the day. 
As the sun strikes the gorge with roseate ray; 
And misty-fine vapors like opalent dew. 
Trailed foreland and ledge o'er in variant hue; 
Where stratified seams of micaceous flag, 
Like jeweled veins sparkled on butte and crag. 

Faint echoes like whispers from far away spheres, 
Low murmured thru silence awoke on my ears, 

15 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And wafting from happier, more peaceful clim.es, 
Came dulcetly ringing like sweet astral chimes. 
Brief intervals thrilled with the song of the bird, 
And over a mead broke the ting of the herd. 
I knew that love dwelt in a peaceful somewhere. 
And a yearning awoke in my heart to be there ; 
But all remained distant as not of my world, 
For, here by the stream all ceaselessly whirled. 
And my guide kept my eyes an the pathway ahead, 
While at every step we encountered the dead. 
The stream broadened ever, the torrent grew deep. 
The tide seem'd to hurry alway in its sweep. 

At every turn of the way we had passed, 
I noticed a shadow peculiarly cast; 
And I said to my guide : ''Since we entered here, 
There is one who has followed us ever near." 
She replied: "'Tis a ghost you may subjugate — 
'Tis that most dreaded foe Implacable Fate !" 
You must know it aright to destroy its pow'r — 
'Tis learning will give thee the masterful dow'r." 



We passed a rude school on the slope of the steep, 
That hung like a nest o'er the river's wide sweep — 
And a worn, weary man at the open door, 
Scanned the gold-gleaming sands of the river's shore 

16 



THE TEMPLE OF THE 30UL 

His charges h?d gone to the waters to play, 
And the lessons he taught seem'd in vain alway. 

Then my guide kissed the cross that hung at her breast, 
And exclaimed : *"Tis the way the Master knew best !'* 



IIL 



From upland and hummock ^nd sky-slanting steep, 
The rythmical drip of the afPiuent seep, 
Like dreary rain falling in sibilant plash. 
Struck the soul of my ear with tintalent clash. 

The glittering torrent, augmented by rills. 
Meandering down thru the cleft of the hills. 
Redoubled the gush of the forbidden tide ; 
Becoming a river, deep channeled and wide. 

Now the path lead away thru a deep ravine, 
Where the river had carven its course between. 
We cautiously crept along, stone over stone, 
Thru the dusk of the night in the silence alone; 
Where only the grind of the swift moving flow, 
Like a soft, soughing wind sang sweet and low; 
And a drear melancholia weighted my heart, 
With a sense of aloneness, all else apart. 



17 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

I heard from afar the wayfaring song 

Of emprising pilgrims in valorous throng; 

As downward defiling from valley and height, 

They advanced to the lure of mammon's false light. 

They came with a song of content in their hearts, 
That arcadian joy industry imparts; 
As free as the air in the welkin above, 
As meekly at peace as the spirit of love. 

Then there came to my mind a cottage afar, 
Where the humblest ties of the family are; 
Where peace without plenty and love unalloyed, 
Crown'd earnest endeavor and days well employed. 

The thought died away in the murmur and tread, 
That wakened the silences solemnly dead; 
The solitudes thrill'd as thru rift and ravine, 
On the marge of the stream the hosts convene. 

There halted by sentries they bartered and bribed. 
Their soul's precious price they gladly subscribed, 
For a touch of the gold, the ocherous brew 
That seemingly body and life might renew. 

And most there had labored with brawn and sweat. 
For the pittance of gold they had come there to get : 
Their hires' recompense periodically paid, 
Was grudingly doled from the river of shade. 

18 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
¥¥ 

Said my guide : "These are toilers from pit and field, 
Who have come to the stream for their labor's yield. 
A scant compensation they carry away, 
For the Lords of Possession are meager pay." 

I saw in the faces repulsed from the tide, 
Unsatisfied yearning and hunger beside; 
And some were rebellious and challenged the right 
Of the miserly rich, to covet their mite. 

Then their guile changed to anger and discontent, 
As on down the river they noisily went — 
There avarice, lust and rebellion were born, 
And murder and hate and malevolent scorn 
Cast its shadow in ev'ry department of Hfe, 
And the spirit of peace was changed to strife. 

The Lords of Possession in penury's lack, 
Insolvently grappled their overfull sack; 
And many a worthy one sent to the grave, 
Some beggarly part of their fortune to save. 
We knew them whenever we met on the way, 
By their miserly traits and very poor pay. 

We could see that God was exceedingly just. 

That He made them give o'er what was only their 

trust — 
For Death the collector e'er stood at the gate, 
And demanded their pelf as they bowed to Fate. 



19 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
¥¥ 

I noticed that neither a leaf nor a bloom 
Cast a sheltering shade nor a sweet perfume; 
That the country about was shorn of its yield. 
That only dry stubble was left on the field. 



As we thridded our way my heart was distressed, 
By the poverty of the poor and oppr-essed. 



*Twas as drear as the Stygian stream of death, 
And never a leaf stayed the wind's bitter breath — 
And low like the moaning of souls in distress, 
Came the murmur of woe from the night's recess. 
'Mid stifling odors made nauseous by lust, 
We seem'd to descend thru the earth's inner crust, 
And there, like the damned in the confines of hell, 
We entered the place where the down-trodden dwell. 
I recoiled from the bestially morbid throng 
That strove in the mire of the hopelessly wrong : 
And I asked my guide: *'Have we not gone astray? 
We're descending, not climbing, the mystic way." 
She said: "To ascend we must ever retrace; 
The stairway of wisdom begins at life's base. 
What the world regards its most coveted gift. 
Is reversed in the light of the spirit's uplift." 

20 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

As she passed on ahead I hung back in fear, 

I dreaded the unholy mob to come near; 

And some touched her garments so sacredly white, 

And sor-.e humbly knelt in the glow of her lieht. 

No matter how vicious the fiend who came near, ' 

She offered to each consolation and cheer. 

We entered a brothel degraded and vile, 

Where the lowest of creatures their moments beguile ; 

And there writhed a girl, like a lotus bloom fair, 

Enslaved in the lust of that impious air. 

My guide put her arms round the poor, banished thing. 

And I saw a soft tear 'neath her lashes spring: 

Then she said to me: "'Tis v/hat men label love — 

He is helping this creature with hellward shove. 

Ke has learned her desire is to do, to attain; 

He is dolmg his means for her spirit's stain. 

She is gaining her aim, but she does not know. 

She has sold her soul to an agent of woe." 



As my guide led me on I asked: "Why this night?" 
She replied : "Each being must bring his own light — 
Each candle of learning you light on the way, 
Unfoldeth your view as the dawn ushers day." 

"When we lay us down to sleep, 

What a trust we show! 
Neath our Shepherd's loving keep, 
To our dreams we go." 

21 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Tho we doubt and scoff by day. 
When we come to rest, 

All our scorn is put away, 
On the Master's breast. 

Passive as a wayward child 
Heedless of its plight, 

All despoiled and sin defiled. 
Seek we rest at night. 

Nesting in the Father's arms, 
Whom we have betrayed. 

Safely sheltered from alarms. 
All our fears allayed. 

What a loving Master He, 
To forgive such sheep! 

What meek, yielding spirits we, 
When we come to sleep! 



IV. 



As onward we wended we met many there. 
That weary, had fallen and passed in despair. 
And my angel explained that life's steps were of stone. 
From the graves of the many who, perished unknown ; 
And were hewn by the mallet of throb and pain, 
Inscrib-ed by the quest of the useless and vain. 
These had passed thru the gate with no soul to guide, 
And had followed the light of the golden tide. 

22 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

B?d habits, like phantoms, pursued all alike, 
And were ever alert their victims to strike! 

Old age, overburdened, trudged painfully slow: 
All were striving with foibles they soon must let go. 

Each enlightening step, each vista of gain, 

Seem'd to bring its mete of equivalent pain; 

And often alone, without beacon to guide, 

In a dubious dusk we seem'd to abide 

Where troublous tempests swept down on our path, 

And scourges of wind vented furious wrath. 

The way bruised my feet till they painfully bled, 

Exhausted I sank on the way as one dead. 

Discouraged, disheartened, distracted and sore, 

I said to myself, I can venture no more. 

Then I prayed for release from the ill and fret, 

For every act seem'd to bring but regret. 

The dust raspt my throat from the bones of the dead. 
Who had struggled 'gainst hope till spirit had fled. 
By heavy foreboding and sorrow opprest, 
I paused at a shrine by the wayside to rest. 
And there hung a man with a beautiful face, 
That an ignoble lust had brought to disgrace. 



23 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

A spectre dwelt in a human heart — 

Concealed from mortal view 
By the vain conceit of a wa5rward mind, 

That the light could not shine thru. 

The face of this man was stamped with crime, 

His fingers clawed with lust ; 
And in his breast burned a quenchless flame, 

A desire he could never trust. 

His eyes were dull with a merciless hate, 

His whole aspect was grim; 
With never a trace in form or face. 

Of the good that was born in him. 

At last he stood neath the hangman's noose, 
Where his neck would soon be wrung; 

And a minister prayed for the peace of his soul. 
Just ere the trap was sprung. 

Then burst from the criminal's face a light, 
That had always been repressed; 

As he stood on the threshold of his God, 
A something woke in his breast. 

And it said: "I have always been with you, 
But my voice you would not hear; 

So I went to sleep and you had your way — 
You have sought me now in fear." 

24 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And your bleaching bones and noisome flesh, 

Shall waft on the windy gust; 
For your mind could not grasp the thought of me, 

So it pander'd to vain lust. 

'Twas God put me into your imortal breast — 

To find me there if you would; 
But He will'd that you never could do me harm, — 

The soul but responds to good. 



In anguish I cried : "Is it this that we earn? 

Is this then the knowledge my being doth yearn?" 

Then my beautiful angel addressed me and said : 
"The pathway of learning is paved with the dead.'* 



In the twilight we met a beautiful pair. 

That had sworn thru life joy and sorrow to share — 

They were trudging sore-weighted, lame in their tracks, 

So burdened with chains that it doubled their backs. 

And she was as fair as a new opened flow'r, 

While he gifted seem'd with a fine, manly dow'r. 

But at every step of the way they fought 

O'er some trivial thing that portended naught. 

Each carried a poinard and wickedly thrust. 

Till one or the other fell prone in the dust. 

I saw him stand over her poised for a blow, 

25 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

And I sprang at his throat, but my guide cried : "No ! 
They will fight that way till their spirits are killed, 
And no one can help them. 'Tis just as they've willed." 
"But," said I, "she appeals for help ; she will die." 
"Ah, no !" said my guide, "there's deceit in her eye ; 
For he is her idol in spite of their state; 
'Tis their manner of living, not really hate. 
'Tis their reaching and yearning wreaketh the woe, 
And the guileless are victims, not those who know. 
But every drop of their blood that they spill 
Taints the race with its rile, some woe doth instill." 

O the love that hates is a venomous draught, 

No blade hath so keen an edge ; 
And it poisons the life of the heart it hath caught. 

For it knows neither trust nor pledge. 

There's infection in ev'ry scratch of its claw, 

That its gentlest mood doth conceal ! 
And its course it will run in spite of the law, 

And its sting only God can heal. 



Our concept of life is entirely amiss, 
For, every hour we depart from the bliss. 
That God in His Goodness designed for us here. 
We are turning the otherwise fair to drear. 

26 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

We allow impatience and hate to intrude, 
Our words we select from the harsh and the rude, 
When an attitude kindly, a calm, sweet poise, 
Would banish a host of dread ills and annoys. 

God's lesson intendeth that we should discern 
How fallible matter — and labor and learn — 
That we might return to His home afterwhile, 
With full understanding, in meekness and guile. 

'Tis freedom of will and balance of pow'r. 
That lifteth the Soul to its mystical dov/'r ; 
God liketh His children uphoiilded thru strife, 
Tho offspring of peace, we must understand life; 
And the lessons we skip, the books throw away. 
We must surely review at some future day. 
'Tis only the bigot who saith : "I am all," 
For the babe ere it walks must have many a fall. 
But plurk is the lesson : . Endeavor, attain — 
For the portals of Heav'n unlock but to pain. 

I said : "I'm unworthy to mount thus above, 
When others more righteous seem lost to God's love." 
"None are lost," said my guide, "but all must aspire, 
They must crave for learning, adjustment acquire. 
You must keep your dream-temple aye in your mind. 
If you would achieve what your will hath designed. 
'Tis the wavering, doubtful, the ills must endure, 
Till their aims they shape into one high and pur©. 

27 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
V¥ 

You must know ev'ry phase of primary life, 
You must know the causes that underlay strife. 
You must love with a love that 'compasseth all — : 
You must ever respond to sympathy's call. 
You must learn the instant is yours, not the gone ; 
That the past and future are God's, moving on. 

"Yet all who have entered this mystical dream. 

Will finally reach the high temple of aim : 

For, once one here enters, one never returns, 

The flame once ignited eternally burns. 

Some say: "We'll avoid this sorrowful stair", — 

But every being must sometime repair 

To the Portal of Wisdom, the Gateway of Life, 

And learn its true meaning : the glorious strife. 

Their vices may cling, but ascending the height, 

Experience purges the soul of all blight. 

And each in his turn, as his destiny weaves, 

Is taught as a child ere earth's schoolhouse he leaves ; 

And Love is the Master and Wisdom the goal. 

Perfection's the aim of the God-fashioned soul. 

You are building the niche you're going to fit, 
And 'tv/ill be just as great as you've builded it ; 
And the love that is perfect, did you but know, 
Must be lived in the way you wuold have it grow. 

'Tis mind and heart hunger awakens the soul. 
With all idols shattered we seek a new goal; 
'Tis better than riches and free from all strife, 
A something undying, an Immortal Life. 

28 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Mid the growing and the fading, 

We are walking all the way; 
Mid the lofty and degrading — 

Yet we never are astray. 

For there is a vision clearer 

Than the merely outward view; 
Where all things are known and nearer 

To the sense that seeth true. 

Blossoms whisper confidently, 

And the bird its heart relates ; 
While the stream sings redolently, 

And all nature palpitates. 

With the Master we are moving 

In the wilderness or throng; 
We can ever feel His loving, 

We can always hear His song. 

Mid the dying and the living. 

Mid the doubts that misconstrue; 

We can sense His wondrous giving, 
As all Life He doth renew. 

We can feel the forward urging 

Of this universal tide ; 
And the streams of Life converging 

In the Heav'nly Ocean wide. 

29 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
¥¥ 

But the trend is upward ever, 
Moving with the spheres above; 

Not a vital thing can sever 

From the Master and His Love. 



O blessed remembrances, days of advance! 
My Soul swells within me as backward I glance; 
O'er sorrows and blisses, our life's bitter-sweet: 
The triumph at last over seeming defeat — 
Retaining, forgetting, retracing, regained — 
Forever maintaining some vantage sustained. 
Embittered, disparaged, discouraged, forlorn ; 
My honest endeavors of all virtue shorn ; 
For often in giving, the given would thrust 
The sense of the giver like dross in the dust. 
How often when doing what seem'd right and best, 
The deed flung around me the blight of a pest. 
What an unlike affection is man's vain boast, 
Compared to the Love that God prizeth most? 
For men, tho unequal, are of equal worth. 
The soul giveth caste, not possessions nor birth. 



Once wrestling with agonies too dread to tell. 
Beyond all that's promised of sin-scourging hell, 
I begged at Death's door for the touch of his calm. 
But he thrust me away without hope or aim. 

30 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

He said : "Pass along, I*m a fraud and a cheat, 
God's harvest art thou, for He clainieth the wheat. 
I am playing Life's game, so pass on your way, 
At the end of the river I'll seize my prey. 
Then with heart bravely quickened I pressed on again, 
Tho my sympathies flow'd for unsolaced pain ; 
And my lips were assailed by a feverish thirst. 
Said my guide : "You must give to these sufferers first. 
'Tis the ungodly thrive on that soul-shrinking tide, 
But the draught never quenches the fever inside." 
I hungered and craved, but we paused not to eat ; 
Said she : " 'Tis for vultures, this putrified meat." 
Stiil onward we jorneyed and each step anew, 
Brought its lesson to learn, its trial to pass thru. 



We passed a deep grotto where beautiful girls 
"Were plunging headlong in the river's bright swirls. 
And their wonderful bodies agleam with the gold, 
Show'd the forfeit of virtue, the gem they'd sold. 
And they laughed in their pleasure and gaily sang. 
Till the wilderness round with the melody rang. 
But I saw just below them the ritBe of care, 
And I knew in my soul they were drifting there: 
They have bartered their way past the sentries grim, 
For a bauble of joy at the river's brim. 
Lust takes from their being all beauty and grace, 

31 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And leaveth the canker of ill in its place; 
But with never a serious thought or a care, 
By the lure of the gold they fell in the snare; 



Here our youth whiled away the zest of their bloom, 
And passed to the shade of a spiritless gloom. 



O'er a mother that suckled her crying child, 
Dread vultures were winging with pinions defiled. 
She is nourishing hope at her famished breast, 
Too proud for the alms reluctant at best. 
The child is her future, her spirit and all. 
Her beautiful progeny, life's highest call ! 
She has ansv/ered the voice of creative love, 
On loneliness' altar, a poor stricken dove. 
The vultures that wait for a peck at her bones, 
Is man's attitude to the woman he owns. 



An old man was leading a child by the h?nd, 

As they walked along by the gold-river's strand ; 

And bubbles of gold he blew in the air, 

V/hile he baited the mind of the child, so fair, 

With the lustful taint of unholy desire 

To possess what he had when he should expire. 

32 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

He was buying submission where love was vain, 
For love bideth not with the spirit of gain. 
The twig he was bending to self-love and greed, 
VV ith never a thought of his soul's inner need. 



Here fathers and mothers and lovers and kin 
All bow'd to the prospect of something to win; 
And they gave o'er their dearest to Mammon's bait, 
In hopes they .might share in some promised estate. 
But the false hopes die and they reckon the cost. 
In the self-respect and the love they have lost. 
Keep your own close at hand, let them share with you ; 
Make them heirs to a love untainted and true. 
In their after years they will curse the vain pride 
That allured them f roim you into folly's tide ; 
They had better have less and see more of strife. 
Than follow the wiles of a self-centered life. 



There were echoing winds of promise and word 
That seem'd to entice the desirous who heard, 
Till they stray'd afar from the way of advance, 
O'er the aimless wilds of impossible chance. 
And many there were almost touching success, 
Which some wa5rward lure would not let them possess. 
Oft' Virtue limpt by unattractively gaunt. 
While vice rode with Beauty's voluptuous vaunt. 

83 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
ffft 

We passed by the place where Falsehood was bom. 
And learned that its parents were Pride and Scorn. 
In the place where real Truth was supposed to reign. 
We found it was ruled by Denial and Gain. 

Like dogs in the treadmill of eternal grind, 
Frail children exhausted both body and mind; 
And their spiritless eyes stared wistfully wide, 
As they watched the leisurely carelessly glide. 



How long ere the needy the law will assume, 
And strike in their might special privilege's doom? 
How long will securities mould in the vault, 
While unscrupulous coin is held in default? 
It wants but a spirit with heart of the mold 
Of the great White Crusader, the Jesus of old — 
The flash of whose beam o*er the magic of night. 
Will turn the dark hosts from the shadow to light. 



Said my guide: 
"Fate follows the river and feasts on the flesh 
Of the selfish entangled in ambition's mesh." 

H: ^ :{: * Hi ^ 4: 

The Lords of Possession still watched by the stream, 
To see that none vanished, not even a gleam — 
Till it reached the vaults of their miserly lust — 

34 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Where they held it sure in a self-ordered trust. 

And every talent and every gift 

That was given by God for man's uplift 

Was ground in the mill of the barons of greed, 

So that man must pay dearly for every need. 

And the law was construed and religious views, 

So that every being must pay his dues, 

Or be cast in the gullet of desuetude, 

Or loaded with burdens of dull platitude. 

The temples and talents, the wealth of the earth. 
Belong not to man, tho he boasts of his worth ; 
They belong to his time and his Father above. 
Man's only the tenant by grace of His love. 
And the greed and oppression that poverty feels 
Is because of this Truth unwisdom conceals ! 
Man's only possessions are those of the mind, 
The temples there builded are not left behind. 
Keep your castles in view, yea, dream if you will ! 
What is built in the soul, God's grace will fulfill. 



'Neath an oak that stood stark, and leafless and dead, 
Overleaning the shadowy path ahead, 
Sat an hoary old minstrel with harp, who sang 
Till the mountains around with the echoes rang; 

35 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

And he struck on its strings a masterful chord, 
That echoed the voice of the world as it soared. 
I listened, inspired by his voice deep and strong, 
And this was the theme of his wonderful song : 

"I am one of the rabble, 
The world's surging mass; 

And my thoughts are as stubble. 
My words are as grass. 

While the few are wide flaunting 
Their beautiful blooms, 

I am one of the many 
No flower illumes. 

But adown where I flourish 

We mingle as one; 
And we all share alike in 

God's bountiful sun. 

Tho the rose hath a garden 

Aloof in its pride, 
'Tis no better than ours, 

Tho caste may divide. 

We're as free as the streamlet 

To wander at will, 
O'er the green, sloping meadow, 

Or pine verdured hill. 

36 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 



We are slaved not to fashion, 
We're bound to no creed ; 

We are only expressing 
God's wisdom indeed. 

Of the mighty above us 
We've no share of fame; 

Tho we're feeding their greatness, 
Upholding their name. 

Yet the same as the humblest, 
Their laurel blooms must, 

All unknown and un-numbered. 
Dissolve into dust. 

I am one of the rabble. 
The great surging mass ; 

And my thoughts are as stubble. 
My words are as grass." 

But the seed I have yielded, 

The deeds of to-day, 
From the chaff shall be parted, 

And treasured for aye. 



On the further bank of the stream surged a crowd 
Of the world's discontented, a stormy cloud. 
Their faces were careworn, their eyes fever burned, 
While an unconquered spirit within them yearned ; 

37 



THE TEMPLE OF TKE SOUL 

And ev'ry crude weapon their means could contrive 
Flashed in the false light with a courage alive. 
Long wanting, o'erburdened, and service scant paid, 
Hath aroused a resentment, a malice unstaid; 
And mothers and sisters and sweethearts upbore, 
Surrendering all in the face of dread war — 
All were shouting and singing strife's martial lays, 
As they crowded along the world's highways. 
Tho ragged and wan, yet their valorous brawn 
Show'd courageous hearts could be counted upon. 

There were shepherds and ministering angels there, 

Who without fee or tithe gave their gentlest care 

To the sick and the dying, the needy, the sad ; 

And they scattered like chaff all the goods they had. 

But their radiant faces bespoke of joy 

That wealth could not buy, nor death destroy. 



Still fleecing the poor were the jackals of lust ; 
Deluding ambitions, betraying meek trust. 
Drawing revenues fat by ev'ry sleek ruse, 
That process of craft where the poor alone lose. 
These arrant obtainers, inflated with pelf, 
Spewed over the lowly, aggrandizing self ; 
Till all that restrained the crazed masses from war 
Was the spirit of Christ, who stood at their fore. 

38 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

There were many mock Christs parading about, 

Pretending His powers with fervor devout; 

Tho some were in earnest, the most scarcely knew 

Just what they were canting, or what they could do—* 

But they blatantly scoffed at the Son of God, 

As they lay on His breast the scourge of the rod. 

And I'll never forget the look I saw then 

In the eyes of the Christ, the Savior of men; 

As with wide spreading arms He held His hosts back, 

As they surged lil' a wave disposed for attack ; 

And I asked my ^ ^e: "Will He hold them at bay?" 

She replied : . "He m. t lower His arms some day, 

And the rule of the vain, possession's false lords, 

Will be swept from earth with their ill-gotten hoards." 



Compensation's the law of the God above; 
Who planteth amiss cannot harvest of love. 
In proportion exact to what it hath giv'n, 
The soul of the giver may know it hath thriven. 
Ah, why do we wonder what we shall attain? 
You can figure it out. 'Tis simple and plain. 
Take paper and pencil and write down the sum. 
If surely you'd know what you've still to overcome. 
Just figure impatience and selfishness in. 
Omission, resentment and each thoughtless sin; 
Then balance it up with the good you might do, 
And you'll know about v^hat is coming to you. 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

There are problems of life we must live to solve, 

V/e must learn by throbs as our souls evolve. 

There are scarce two alike in their wants and needs — 

Personality's builded from thoughts and deeds. 

'Tis the superman triumphs at last, indeed; 

Mere faith in one's genius can never succeed ; 

*Tis God within, only, that carries us thru; 

If our trust we place there, all things we may do. 

Don't crave for a place you're unworthy to fill, 

*Tis the over-ambitious that wreak the ill ; 

But, once in the field, put your faith in God's love, 

And you'll find that you've ris'n all hindrance above. 



VI. 



Where inwalling bastions soared wildest and steep, 
And the river confined moaned angry and deep, 
Where obsidian walls seem'd the sky to lift — 
And never a star pierced the gap of the rift — 
Nor silvery moon ever miellow'd the night — 
The path led us sheer on the brink of the height. 
Dull birds of ill omen swung silent below. 
While over the seethe of the turbulent flow 
Rose the cries of the striving and lost of way, 
That in the false glamour had wandered astray. 

The Wind's intonation was dismal and shrill. 

As it swept down the gorge with fret drear and chill. 

40 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

A loud detonation of terrible force 

Crashed over my head from some mystical source, 

And a riot of hail, sharp-cutting and swift, 

Swept down from the blackness that hung o'er the rift, 

While flashes of lightning with ravening dart, 

Lashed the pit with flame till it glow'd ev'ry part ; 

And voices hysteric wailed up from below, 

Like a bedlam of dying, a storm of woe — 

Till my sensitive nerves, unstrung by the strain, 

Urged desire to destruction, tho death seem'd in vain. 

By the livid flash I gazed down the deep rift. 

And dizzily swaying I reeled most adrift. 

As horrible faces, sin-carven and dread. 

Peered out of the shadows with eyes shot with red. 

A python coiled round me and pinioned me fast. 

Till palsied with terror my knees gave at last; 

And senseless with fear I lurched over the wall. 

But my guide touched my heart and I could not fall ; 

And she said : "You must not lose faith, gaze ahead." 

I remorsefully f ollow'd the way she led ; 

For there's nothing so quickens the conscience here 

As man's bitterest foe. Implacable Fear. 



In the pale copper green of the early dawn. 

We faintly could see where the trail led us on; 

And plodding our way where the deep gorge cut thru, 

41 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
W¥ 

V/e presently stood on a little plateau ; 

Then crossed a savanna that spread far and wide, 

Till our trail emerged at a deep cavern's side. 

The river flow'd quietly, smoothly along, 
With just an occasional murmur of song; 
Till sheer o'er a precipice, fathomless deep. 
The effluent plunged in a terrible leap. 

As it dashed down the pit with a thunder loud, 
In its fall breaking into a golden cloud, 
A spectrum of mist curved its glittering bow 
O'er the chaotic seethe in the depths below. 

Transfixed on the brink, as far downward we gazed, 
We were dumb with the grandeur and stood amazed. 
While feelings surged in us no words ca.n express — 
As if in God's presence we were, nothing less. 

Afar in the vale like a bright diadem 
Blazed the city of Gold, a scintillant gem. 
Whose turrets and tov/ers and finials high 
Shone up from the lowlands like stars in the sky. 

By shrub, branch and boulder we let ourselves down^ 
Till we stood on the green of the valley's gown. 
On high, overhead, an aurora of light, ^ 

Like a fan opened wide to our rapturous sight ; 
And a tumultuous joy up-surged in my soul — 
As I thought to myself: "At last 'tis the goal!" 

42 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

The city was girdled with high walls of white, 

That seem'd to reflect a wierd, mystical light; 

And strange, — 'neath an arch in the base of the wall, 

The river swept under with musical fall. 

I remarked to my guide: "How queerly designed I 

Where are the wide gates I expected to find?" 

She replied: 
"To the City of Gold there is only one gate. 
And the watchman there is Implacable Fate; 
Who otherwise enters must plunge in the tide, 
They must barter their souls for the pleasures inside, 
(And there in the stream like m.ere flotsam and drift 
Swept the ambitious mortals under the rift. 
And prime, youth and beauty and talent did seem 
To cast off" all virtue and plunge in the stream.) 
'Tis the wrong point of view they have of success, 
That is luring them into the stream of distress." 

The languorous, lazy, improvident sloths, 
Whose torpid ambitions like fire-foolish moths — > 
Fribble dormantly round in somnolent loll. 
Each moment expecting some good may befall, 
Till scorched by the flame of an ardent desire, 
They give up their quest and, disheartened, retire. 
Blocked the way to the gate with their pond'rous forms^ 
Or aimlessly flopped like disconsolate worms. 

43 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

It is not the leisure that keeps us young, 
'Tis the work we find to do; 

It is not the peace that makes us strong, 
But the strife that we pass thru. 

It is not the crown that spells success, 

It is what we understand. 
It is not release from life's distress. 

But the grace of an open hand. 

It is not our learning that brings us joy, 
*Tis the helpful words we say. 

Omission's the fiend that doth destroy. 
The void of an unfilled day. 

What profits the height we may attain, 
If it mounts not from the heart? 

There is no ill like the poignant pain, 
If we've failed to do our part. 

Like the stars that revolve in the blue. 
There's a place we each must fill. 

And we, like they, have our work to do. 
And we can if we but will. 

Each atom its fixed law obeys. 
It is man alone may choose; 

And we grow old in our youthful days 
Because of the time we lose. 



44 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

¥¥ 

Desire without purpose is Will without aim — 

You must know what you want ere your wish you 

frame. 
'Tis earnest endeavor that quickens success ; 
You must delve for the gem that you would possess. 
The aim of it all is the balance of pow'r — 
And personal poise is the masterful dow'r; 
And all the mistakes you have made hitherto 
Are the ways that will lead to the right point of view. 

See that poor woman there of exquisite grace, 
Whose bountiful talents illumine her face; 
She is painfully creeping o'er briar and thorn, 
While her beauty is fading, worried and worn — 
She is chained to the side of a clod of dust, 
Who deprecates art and encourages lust. 
She's as free as can be, but the thread of fear 
Holds her faithful in spite of the slavery drear. 
He is cunning enough to know she is vain — 
And he lets out a link now and then in her chain. 
"O what means that shadow?'* in anguish I cried. 
As it covered the woman with fateful tide. 
"O questioning one, can't you readily guess 
Who it is in the world causes all the distress?" 
"Yet, time will enlighten," said my guide, " 'tis Fate, 
This ill-looking shadow, this fiend incarnate. 
Understanding's the weapon shall end his reign. 
Understanding shall make his delusions vain." 

45 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 



We came to the gateway of service and arts — 
Said my guide : *' 'Tis the altar of Broken Hearts ! 
*Tis here the expression of life comes to view, 
For 'tis earnest alone makes the song ring true. 
The entrance invites you with promise of fame, 
Behold in gold letters emblazoned your name, — 
'Tis alluring this m^eans, to do, to attain — 
But its cost to the soul is service and pain." 

"Enter not," said she, "or surrender your best — 
The pathway is rough and there's no place to rest. 
No half-hearted longing will win you renown, 
'Tis sacrifice, labor and trust wins the crown. 
The sorrows and failures you've already known 
Are as naught compared to art's struggle alone. 
The reward of it all is an immortal dow'r — 
The Alchemist's dream — personality's pow'r. 

Enchanting, sweet music swept thru the still air, 
Yielding rapturous pleasure, dissolving all care. 
Transporting my sense with voluptuous lure, 
As the cadence resolved to harmony pure. 
All discordant congestions, all dissonant themes, 
As the sun weaves the mist into prismatic gleams. 

Ev'ry nerve in my corse desired to proceed. 
So we entered the gate of the City of Greed. 

46 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

As we pass'd up the street ev'ry doorway was closed, 
And it seem'd to me the whole city reposed — 
But my guide explained that these smart shops of old 
Were closed by the greed of the Barons of Gold. 

There were viperous tongues alert with the word, 

Was intended to stifle some hope when heard; 

And they never missed the true mark with their fling, 

*Twas intended to help, but carried a sting ! 

For as soon as a man to some height doth aspire, 

He's the target of spite ; the centre of fire. 

The city well ordered, no crime was in sight — 
'Twas an org' of hell under cover of right — 
For the vulture of law only spread its v/ings 
To hide the rank vice from the surface of things. 
While a few unfortunates felt its sharp beak. 
The privileged class found it docile and meek. 

Great crowds were perusing the lines of the press. 
And feasting on scandal and social excess. 
How much do you offer? How much do I get? 
Were the uppermost thoughts of many we met ; 
And these wallowed freely in ev*ry new drift, 
But their hands never loosened a tithe or a gift. 
The question of competence ever was raised : — 
If these money-mad children of art were praised 
By a tolerant public or indulgent friend, 
The first thought they had was, a larger stipend. 

47 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

There was scant recreation for lack of time; 
All amusements were flavored with vice and crime ; 
For the church stood aloof in its righteous pride, 
And allowed the concessions its youth to guide. 
And every instinct that should have wrought good, 
Was giv'n to the lure of a bestial brood, 
Where innocent youth was the dream of a day, 
And old age a degree of senile decay. 

Tradition made woman a vain, clinging thing ; 
And I m_arveled to see her uplifting wing ; 
"Indeed," said my guide, "all the problems of life 
Will be solved by the womanly comrade, the wife." 
From the office and home, from cares night and day, 
She is lifting her children upward alway ; 
She is setting their course past the reef and shoal, 
T'ward the Haven of Love, her heart's highest goal. 



As we wandered along all the music waned. 
And the howling of wolves the still air profaned. 
The beasts snarled and snapt at my feet as I passed, 
Tho I walked boldly on, my eyes upward cast. 
"These are envy and hatred," my guide explained — 
"The scorn of the jealous who've nothing attained. 
Aware of their failure and having lost hope, 
They feel that with 'earnest' they never can cope ; 

48 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

So they bark at the heels of the truly intent — 
And they'll track you afar like hounds on the scent. 
But they never can harm you, never come near, 
If your purpose is firm and you show no fear." 

I saw a blind being that v/ildly ran. 
And I wondered howe'er he could run, this man ; 
But a shriveled up hag v/as perched on his back, 
And he was her body— and she was his lack. 

Great altars vv^ere builded where bigotry spew'd, 
Its mock-righteous breath o'er a rapt multitude; 
And rostrums exploited the needs of the day, 
From healing elixirs to increasing pay. 

Here leaders aspire for the place — not to serve; 
Here the crafty-m.outhed v/in, not those who deserve. 
And beings who'd never experienced woe 
Discoursed on the sin scourging tortures below. 



Now the streets are so rough my feet are distressed. 
And I find no occasion for ease or rest. 
"O, what is that temple that rears just ahead?" 
" 'Tis the Tem.ple of Service," my monitor said. 
"Thru the door of competence all should advance, 
Ere they enter the maelstrom of fate and chance. 
But it has many entrances, large and small. 
Where the inconsistent may enter the hall — 

49 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Your friend's at the door, Inexorable Fate, 

And all who've the *where-with' may enter that gate." 

"You will find them all in the very front row, 

They subsist on the plaudits of those belov/. 

Do you note the great crowds of those who would pay, 

While very few enter the competent way?" 

At ev'ry known entrance they crowded the ways. 
They entered the hall where all was ablaze, 
And some burrowed under, and some tried to vault. 
While some sieged the walls with determined assault. 

I saw mothers pushing young children ahead 

Where they dared not themselves the child guileless 

led. 
And make-believe and false-pretence were there, 
And they occupied the most prominent chair. 
And every ruse that the mind can invent, 
Was devised as the means of a narrow intent. 
Some were working like mad, and others were pushed 
By the surge of the army that onward rushed. 

Led on by the impulse of ambitious zeal, 

A wondrous awaking within me did steal. 

A great inspiration my being did thrill, 

As the forces within me conspired with my will. 

Hath mine hour not yet struck, O Thou Absolute? 
Must I still partake of Life's unripened fruit? 

50 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Are my roots so sunk in material slime, 
That I ne'er shall attain perfection sublime? 
In the ebb and the flow of cause and effect, 
Am I e'er to be other than circumspect? 
In the wax and the wane of creative force, 
Am I ne'er to know my direction — my source? 

As I stood contemplating that marvelous scene, 
A something v/ithin me disturbed my serene — 
Something urgently whispered: "Com.e thou inside. 
Great glory awaits thee, dispense with your guide. 
Thou art learn'd and wise, thou hast known much 

strife. 
Thou canst lead the meek, thru thy knowledge of life." 

Thus tempted, beguiled by the siren of Fame, 

I entered the lists of the glorious aim; 

I faltered a moment ; my guide disappeared — 

As I entered the door,— I heard my name cheered. 

The temple contained the extent of the earth. 

And every product of virtue and worth. 

Was controlled by the fewi and bartered and bought. 

Even talent, and genius and spirit and thought, 

And sunshine and flowers, and freedom, and air, 

And faith, love and God were commercialized there. 

Great mints were refining the river of gold. 

Thru the channels of trade the dollars were doled, 

51 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And the Lords of Possession with selfish skill 
Kept their eyes on each piece and ne'er lost a mill ; 
For back and forth, out of reach of the mass, 
All investments and gifts were allowed to pass. 
But no farthing escaped, it always came back 
To their law-sanctioned pouch, greed's miserly sack. 
And I thought of that mob that Christ held at bay, 
And I knew this condition would change some day. 

In the Temple's arena the pit was mazed. 

With the peoples of earth who acted half crazed. 

And boisterous plaudits and bravos rang out, 

When some one appeared they had heard much about. 

Quite often the bedlam was hushed calm and still, 

Beneath the deft spell of true artistry's skill. 

Or hisses or cat-calls v/ere hurled at some knave, 

Who had dared unannounced the audience brave. 

Here the justly rich man is as pinched as the poor, 

For unscrupulous Greed is an evil doer : 

His contemptible lust he will satisfy. 

Spite of friendship and love, or of sacred tie : 

And these will their pow'r to their spiritless heirs. 

As if what they hoarded was forever theirs. 

The laws are construed and applied as befit 
The interests vile of the stock-jobbing pit. 
There's enough and to spare for every one. 
And with half of the toil much more could be done — 

52 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

'Tis desire misdirected and selfish lust, 
That is grinding the soul of the under to dust. 
The greedy are fighting to gratify pride, 
And over all virtue they shamelessly ride. 

Behind gauzy curtains kings fought for the throne, 

And imagined their strife to the crowds unknown : 

They were planning great wars for others to wage, 

While they from security blazoned life's page. 

First the rabble faced this way, and then faced about, 

As some one appeared with a clarion shout. 

I saw artists striving with art to portray, 

Life's Absolute spirit, the mystical way; 

While others less gifted were painting the scenes 

Of ev'ry day life, all its needs, all its means. 

And masterful spirits were there unawares, 

Who managed the whole great trend of affairs; 

So that none were forgotten, none astray. 

Whose eyes were unsealed to the SouTs inner way. 

These minist'ring shepherds are ever unknown. 

For God's secret service rewardeth its own. 

There is no retrogression, all is advance. 

All are learning their lessons, experience. 



Now flush with the tumult I hurtled along. 
With the tide of success, with the urge of the throng. 
'Mid baffling confusion, and uncertain night, 
*Mid contempt and intrusion and unlawful might. 

53 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Concealing, revealing, denying, denied, 

Advancing, receding, defying, defied. 

'Mid vanity, pride; 'mid delusion and scorn; 

Till it seem'd my Soul of all virtue was shorn. 

Yet, wonderful moments of joy intervened. 

And blissful past telling, some hours were serened. 

Each step, of the way seem'd to bring more success, 
Till I felt on an equal with God, nothing less. 
The multitudes' plaudits rang sweet in my ears. 
As pausing in pride, I acknowledged their cheers. 
I was chosen their leader for what I stood, 
The rights of the lowly — man's great brotherhood. 
My heart beat with joy as a laurel they twined, 
As tribute to virtue and unbiased mind. 
I felt in my being the power they hailed. 
And thought to imyself, — "My desire hath availed. 
I have builded far better than ever I dreamed. 
And have come to my own at last," — so it seem'd. 

Then a summons came from the High Court of State, 
And I was conducted to where power sate. 
Unbolting a gate I was led thru a wall 
That excluded the masses from garden and mall ; 
From the green and the bloom of an exclusive home. 
Rose the walls of a palace with golden dome. 
At the end of wide stairs I entered a door. 
And was awed at the scene that opened before. 

54 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

A wonderful chamber expanded to view, 

Whose arches supported high ceilings of blue, 

Like a sky, cloud-billowed with stars gleaming thru. 

O'er the walls hung the products of mortal skill, 

From sculpture to art ; even music's sweet thrill 

Re-echoed about the wonderful room, 

But it died away in a feeling of gloom. 

For the room was inclosed with never a ray 

From God's natural sun, the bright orb of day. 

Here artifice drew from the realms of high space, 

A million of lights to illumine the place. 

Round a table of marble, prodigeously spread. 

Sat the "Lords of Possession," from whom peace had 

fled. 
Soft luxury, sentient and languorous ease, 
Neurotically fretted and naught could appease; 
And beautiful women insipidly lolled. 
With stupid inertia, for ev'rything palled ; 
And nothing could tempt the dead palates of those 
Who sat round the board in disquietude's throes. 
Unsated and hung'ring for more to attain. 
They starved in the midst of their ill-gotten gain. 



My presence announced, they consulted awhile 
But I, in discomfiture, struggled with guile. 
Then uprose a being, as gaunt as the dead. 
Deep sunken of cheek and hairless of head — 

55 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Who'd been reading his bible aloud to his clan, 
But his greedy eyes show'd the lust of the man. 
His cavernous voice fairly hissed in my ear, 
As he whined: "'Tis for fame we've summoned you 

here. 
We're seeking a king the dear people desire. 
He must listen to us, that's all v/e require." 
Invited to speak, I my principles drev/. 
When all with accord shouted : "He will not do !" 
"We'll not trust a ruler whose mind is his own; 
The pow'r is our bidding; his toy is the throne." 
Then with righteous anger I turned on my foe, 
And I said : "I can see your near overthrow — 
The people will have the reforms they crave, 
You're dealing with hearts that are earnest and brave ; 
You had better be warned by one who has learned. 
That the whole trend of life will soon be o'erturned. 
You had better begin to freely disburse 
The wealth you have filched ere it proveth a curse. 
You may think you are living but you are damned, 
With the indigestible gorge you have crammed. 
I'm the voice of the people, their cause is mine ; 
I would rule, were I king, v^ith a grace divine. 
The law's for protection, not favor nor caste. 
The rule of the few is a thing of the past. 
The able must care for the wanting and ill, 
And labor b-e valued according to skill. 

56 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

Success is that something we never can buy, 

'Tis an internal glory unseen of the eye. 

A beggar may have it,— or even a king ; 

'Tis a volatile, vague, impalpable thing. 

No measure of judgment, or standard of man 

Can claim it, or name it; the Soul only can. 

Your name may be blazoned from sphere to sphere. 

But the spirit within you barren and drear. 

'Tis the thing that we stand for that hath renown. 

The principle in us that weareth the crowin; 

Success is a feeling we can only gain, 

Thru the gates of endeavor, service and pain." 

Then spake Mammon's Lord : 

"If you'll take good advice, young man, from a friend. 
You'll cut your fine speeches, your creed amend: 
'Tis real money that counts, not spurious trash; 
You may pray to your God, — but look to your cash. 
I study my bible the masses to fool ; 
They'd rather be sheared with a sanctified tool. 
If you're seeking success you'll find it right here ; 
Success is the profit that's ample and clear. 
Do you hear how the people shout and rejoice? 
They've chosen a king with unanimous voice. 
He's the one they've selected to fight their cause. 
But we'll stifle his voice with our self-made laws. 
It doesn't much matter whom they may elect. 
He'll serve our designs or we'll show his defect." 

57 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
WW 

The people are fickle, that's why we succeed; 
They will follow like sheep whoever will lead. 
Pass along wise fool and make room for the next ; 
We're seeking a man who will follow our text. 
The world is all right, if you view it our way, 
We're in it for gain, we are making it pay. 



Then I scornfully thrust from my sight their crown, 
And I cried: "I'll not sell my Soul for renown! 
Fame, fortune and ev'ry material gain, 
I reckon unworthy, impersonal, vain — 
No laurel I'll wear but the garland of love; 
Love only is worthy; 'twas for this I strove. 
Your plaudits are vain and your honors are drear. 
So, take back your sceptre, your kingdom is sere. 
For, love that is proven in Truth and by fire. 
Is the goal I'm seeking, for this I aspire." 

Then laughter as brittle as bones rent the hall. 

And the next I knew I lay prone on the mall. 

But out of the stillness came nearer alway. 

The cries of the needy whom Christ held at bay. 

I saw, thru a crevice that shattered the wall. 

The features of Death surveying the hall; 

And I heard him exclaim: "They've forgotten I'm 

here; 
I'm the -guest they had rather would not appear. 

58 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

I'm preparing a feast upon my own terms, 
A banquet there'll be for my grubbs and my worms : 
Naught else but a worm could such food e'er digest* 
These self-centred drones have the bile of a pest." 



From that heart breaking temple a path I found, 
That led thru a field, and I followed it round 
'Mid the fairest of blossoms and sweet scented air, 
And I shook from my heart its burden of care ; 
And I purged from my spirit the damning stain 
Had been scarred on imy breast by the Lords of Gain, 

On a fair, primrose path that paused by a rill, 
I threw my self down and drank my thirst's fill: 
I bathed my hot cheeks in the dew of the morn. 
And I gazed on the world with a spirit newborn : 
I embraced with my arms the redolent green, 
And there o'er my sense swept a calmness serene. 
Like the bee that had sipt of the dead, waxen flow'r, 
Tho I'd missed the sweet, I had fulfilled my hour. 
And I knew where to seek for the honied draughts, 
I knew how to waken the mind's master thoughts. 

«ig ^ ^ sts ^ ^ ^ 

There is something mixed into this clay of ours, 

That lifts it above the clod ; 
There is something that nurtured, divinely flow'rs, 

I feel in my soul it is God. 

59 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 



Here first in my bosom its true song awoke, 
As unto my being the mystic voice spoke ; 
Of nature so bountiful, yet never heard, 
Until comes the conscious, the magical word. 

The commonplace symbols we often pass by, 
Bloom'd forth in their full to my inverted eye. 
The callow-day brooklet that once merely plashed, 
Nowi found in my being response as it dashed. 

The fresh turning loam and the odor of rain, 
The dank grassy heather, the gay blooming plain ; 
The thicket, the hedge, the tall waving trees — 
All sang their own anthems attuned to the breeze, 
And music, the voice of the pulsating spheres, 
Stirred the depths of my being, enraptured my ears. 

What peace to feel God's grace again, 

After the troubled dream ; 
To learn the lessons taught by pain, 

To know Love doth redeem. 

How wonderful to be His Own — 

To feel His tender care ; 
To know we never are alone. 

That we His blessings share. 

60 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

To know that death and evVy ill 

Are only change of heart ; 
To know we can be what we will, 

If we but do our part. 

How brave the heart that often quails, 

Tho suffering all the while; 
How staunch our trust when courage fails, 

And He helps o'er the trial. 

O blessed boon to earn our peace ! 

To rise o'er battles fought ! 
To feel we have not prayed for ease. 

But striven as we ought. 

To so have borne our Cross that there 

We may walk with our Lord. 
To understand — to know and share ; 

This is the Soul's reward. 



There, far from tumultuous excitement and toil. 
With no fav'ring circumstance the sense to spoil ; 
Away from effusions that follow success, 
I drank from the goblet of true happiness ; 
And heard the soft vocal of love sweet intoned, 
And met on my path rarest beauty enthroned. 

61 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

In reverent awe I knelt at her feet, 

My being surrendered, a captive complete. 

I said : "O my heart, I have found thee at last ! 

'Twas this I desired; this the dream. I held fast!" 

Then she rose and a laurel she placed on my brow, 
And she said: "With my love I do thee endow. 
I've patiently waited thy years to fulfill — 
This desire of your heart, the wish of your will. 
I have yearningly longed this moment divine. 
When of all other men I choose thee as mine. 
None other so worthy, thou leigneth alone. 
The king of my being — I crov/n thee my own." 
Too enraptured for words I kist her fair hand. 
But she drew it away and bade me to stand ; 
And there to my horror where love stood of late. 
Frowned that hideous shade, Implacable Fate. 

With bitter resentment I dashed at my foe, 

Thou evil incarnate ! Thou source of all woe ! 

I cried with the fury of one long defied 

By an impious shadow my soul had denied. 

I drew from its scabbard my weapon of Faith, 

And I thrust it with all of my might at the wraith ; 

But it parried my blow as if it were naught. 

And ever eluded however I fought. 

With every means my experience knew, 

I the demon engaged, but no harm could do. 

62 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

It boldened each moment my courage grew less, 
Till fainting I faltered in utter distress. 
As it stood gloating o'er me, it flasht to mind, 
"This species of hate is of one certain kind : 
There is only one evil so skilled at thrust." 
"I now understand thee," I cried in disgust ; 
"Thou cheat ! Thou delusion. Implacable Fate, 
All the pow'r thou dost wield is Self incarnate." 

Then I sprang to my feet as with zeal I cried: 
"I fear thee no more, nor thy lance beside" — 
And I fastened my grip in the throat of the ghost, 
And it sank to the earth for its pow'r v/as lost. 

Understanding and Will, the force of the great — 

Had mastered within me the shadow of Fate. 

Triumphant I stood, self conquered indeed; 

With the being within me expanding and freed. 

Translucent as crystal, pellucid as light. 

The Truth shone within me with radiance bright. 

Like a ptismatic spectrum my auric rays, 

Cast their glory around from my Soul's tingent blaze. 

Then I must have swooned, for I knew nothing more, 

Till I felt at my side that presence of yore ; 

As my guide touched my eyelids and said : "'Tis dawn ! 

Hear the meadow lark singing the imead upon !" 

Then as loose grains of sand arrange unto sound, 
My being was thrilled, as by music profound— 

63 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

My spirit conforming, began to disclose, 

As petals, at dawn, of a beautiful rose. 

Then I seemed to have waked on a shimmering strand, 

Where an emerald sea spread afar from the land ; 

And the river of gold swept crystally clear, 

Neath the glittering crests of the briny tier. 

And floating like swans on the beautiful stream, 

Sailed the ships out-bound for the Isle of Dream. 

And each bore a soul from the city of gold. 

And a cargo of learning smug in the hold. 

Then I heard the farewells they sang as the wind 

Filled the swelling sails, leaving sorrow behind. 



Our ships cut loose and they sail far away, 
And the sun goes down on another day — 

And a mist comes o'er our eyes ; 
Then we turn our steps from the shore and say 
We will go to the lonely home and pray 

For an end of sad good-byes. 

II. 

Then we turn again to the boundless deep, 
And a watch for the lated ships we keep. 
On the clear horizon far. 
But afterwhile we shall give o'er the quest. 
And will fold our cares in a tranquil breast 
And join the fleet o'er the bar. 

64 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

III. 

And as husht as the countless ships have gone, 
We shall never return but sail on and on — 

To the shores where spirit dwells ; 
Then our pilot's sweet voice shall welcoime sound, 
As our ship makes fast to the solid ground, 

Of the Land of no farewells. 

IV. 

And the hopes we've upbuilt of our hearts' desires, 
And everything that our soul requires, 

Shall waft with the lilting gust; 
For Love is the ship, and Life is the sea, 
And God the safe pilot eternally; 

And the compass sure is Trust. 



As up from the sea soared the sun's bright disk, 
The mists moved away on the morning winds brisk ; 
And the wings of the snowy white gulls were tipt 
With Aurora's bright flame as they seaward dipt. 

On the ocean of Life I float, I aspire ; 

With the breath of my Soul I drink in the fire. 

From the creative source, the fountain of Light, 

And my Being is thrilled with a wonderful might. 

As the sun swung aloft in effulgent ray, 

A great shaft of light lay its beam on the spray ; 

And I saw uplift like a ladder of light, 

The stair of my longings, the mystical flight, 

65 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And there in the flood of the morn stood agleam 
The Temple I'd fashioned, fulfilling my dream. 
Amazed then I entered thru portals of gold, 
And passed to a room where a book lay unfold, 
Whose pages were glowing with learning and might, 
And my chapter I read with speechless delight. 
Rare paintings of memory lumined the walls ; 
The footfall of dear ones awakened the halls ; 
The music of beautiful thoughts filled the air ; 
The unit of Love and Perfection was there. 
I looked on the world thru the windows of light ; 
And I saw nothing evil, — the trend was aright ; 
For naught is perverted but man's point of view, 
We need but the learning, the Soul to gaze thru. 
And I saw that the summits men call success. 
Were as mounds to the heights of real happiness. 
Then my angel embraced me and said : **You are blest 
With a wonderful gift apart from the rest." 
And she gave me a pen and she bade me depart 
And give to the world all had passed thru my heart. 
Return and enlighten, encourage, sustain. 
The needy and suff 'ring who languish in pain. 
And she said : "When you will you may come here and 

read, 
For only the worthy may scatter the seed : 
Only those who have passed thru life's purging fire, 
Can e'er understand what is meant by desire — 

66 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

And knowledge and truth must be nurtured by tears, 

And self be forgotten and all idle fears. 

And each must select for himself his own guide, 

'Tis the unlettered ones long years must abide. 

You have chosen your guide, we are wedded for aye. 

Our home is this temple, apart from the clay; 

The garland of Being illumines thy brow, 

Personality's seal thy zeal doth endow. 

This room is your being, this book is your life. 

And I am your Soul, and am dearer than wife. 

And all of the tests that you have passed thru. 

Are the steps that have led to the perfect, the true ; 

The wrong you-ve overmastered with Faith and Desire, 

The longing within you to delve and aspire. 

Have builded this temple of unalloyed gold. 

You may coime when you will, the key you now hold. 

It is there in your being, 'tis there is your breast. 

And the God of creation is there as your guest. 



Then the beautiful vision, the maid of my dream. 
Passed out of my vision as swift as a b-eam ; 
But deep in my innermost being arose 
The surge of an ardor that would not repose : 
For she of my longings, enraptured desire. 
Had entered my bosom, my Soul was afire. 



67 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 

The Lord is my Shepherd, 

And where so e'er I stray, 
I shall not want — 

He tendeth me alway. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, 

Whene'er for peace I yearn. 
He leadeth me beside still waters. 

To meditate and learn. 

He restoreth my soul — 

From His creative power. 
He leadeth m.e in the path of righteousness for His 
name's sake ; 

And for my Spirit's dower. 

Yea, tho I walk thru the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil, 
For death cannot prevail : 
For Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they 

comfort me, 
Thy Love can never fail. 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of 
mine enemies, 
And I bid them partake. 
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth 
over; 
For my Soul is awake. 

68 



THE TEMPLE OF THE SOUL 
9¥ 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days 
of my life, 

Because I trust in Thee ; 
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever, — 

And He will dwell in me. 



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